The Meaning of Family
by apyrateslyfe4me
Summary: Browning? Baudelaire? Violet, Kyle, Summer, or Violet, Klaus, Sunny? Violet knows her fate but can't do anything about it! Definately NOT finished.


Chapter One

"The famous Lucius Annaeus Seneca once said, 'Nothing is so wretched as to anticipate misfortunes. What madness is it to be expecting evil before it comes," the young girl read aloud from the book she had rented from the library about Roman playwrights. She shut the book, stood up, removed her headphones (playing classical music), and tossed them on her living room coffee table. "I guess he never heard about the Baudelaires," the 14 year-old muttered as she stretched her arms wide, still tired from her sleep.

Far away, down the hall, she heard a cheerful voice call, "Violet! Come to breakfast!" followed by a baby-like squeal, "Wee! Wee!"  
Violet laughed. "Coming!" she called back. As she started walking down the hall to the kitchen, het thoughts turned again to her favorite books, A Series of Unfortunate Events. Violet thought it was strange, how much like her family was to that of the Baudelaires. Violet had a brother who was twelve, like Klaus, and his name was Kyle. Her sister, Summer, was only a couple months old, and very small. Soon she stood in front of the kitchen door. Violet smoothed down her dress and pushed the door open. Her eyes met Kyle, bent over a book, and Summer, banging her spoon on the table and shrieking.

"Nooka! Nooka!" The baby squealed. Violet covered her ears.

"Where's mom and dad?" Violet asked her brother. He shut the book. Violet studied him. She loved her brother; his short stature, a word which here means, "how tall a certain person, animal, evil count, or child is," Kyle's dark, glossy hair, his love for books, and, most of all, his ability to cheer Violet up whenever she was down.

Kyle replied"Upstairs. In the study."

"Private?" Summer stopped banging the spoon.

"Yes, Summer. Private. What do you think they're always talking about? It seems like it would be work, or something, but they do it often enough that it's obvious it's not," Kyle asked, picking up his book on African reptiles and sliding it under his chair, so the baby wouldn't get it dirty. He stood up, and carried his once-full bowl of cereal over to the sink. Kyle dropped it in the silver sink, which matched the rest of the appliances in the Browning family kitchen.

Violet trudged to the blinding white laundry room and grabbed a small towel. On the way back, she made a detour to her bedroom and plopped herself on the bed. After staring at her poster of Orlando Bloom on her light blue painted ceiling, the teenager crossed the room, towards her white dresser. Rubbing an eye and yawning, Violet opened the top drawer and pulled out her favorite shirt: the plain black baby-tee, which she wore almost every week. Tossing it on the floor beside her, she closed the open drawer and pulled open the one below it. This time, Violet pulled out a pair of beige jean pants. She pushed shut the wooden box, and yanked at the one under that. It fell to the floor, spilling its contents all over.

Violet sighed. "Oh, God." In the next room over, she heard another crash. She ignored it. Picking through the pile of accesories on the floor, Violet's fingers brushed a belt. She drew it into view, and tossed that behind her also. She bent over,scooped her things into her arms, and dumped them back into the fallen drawer. Violet kicked her clothing to the side, until it was inside her bathroom. She stepped after it.

A few minutes later, Violet emerged from the bathroom, fully clothed. Quietly humming to herself, she tugged on a pair of white socks, and tore a comb through her dark, sholder-length hair. Violet heard Kyle yell from downstairs, "Violet! Help!"

She ran down the stairs, taking two steps at a time. Dashing into the kitchen, Violet asked nervously, "What happened?" What she saw made her laugh until tears came to her eyes. In the middle of the room stood Kyle, next to Summer in her high chair, splattered with the baby's cereal. Summer laughed, too.

"Don't laugh." Kyle held up his book. "Look." Violet looked. It was covered with white milk and round bits of breakfast. Violet walked over to Kyle and held out her hands. Her brother let the book fall into them. Violet opened the book and tried to turn the pages. She couldn't, for most were stuck together.

"I'm sorry, Kyle. I know how much you liked the book." And that was true. He rented it almost every time he went to the public library. "Maybe we can fix it," Violetsuggested with a shrug of her shoulders.

"No. We can't. It's ruined," Kyle said negatively. "Do you know how much they're going to kill me? They're already enraged at how many times I take it out!" He dropped his body into a wooden chair next to him, and banged his head on the table. Violet thought she heard a tiny sob. She immediately went into a conniption, a word which here means, "a violent rage or fit of anger."

"Why does it matter so much to you?" she screeched at her brother. "Do you not want to pay the fines for it, or what? I don't get it!"

After Violet yelled at him, Kyle fell into a conniption of his own. "Why does it matter? WHY DOES IT MATTER? Have you been paying _any_ attention since I was born? This is one of my favorite books ever, and I'm not scared of paying money! Do you know what they would say? 'Kyle is a freak who doesn't care about his books.' That's what they would say"

During her sibling's quarrel, Summer had backed herself into a corner far away from them. She quietly spoke to herself, "Elund." She probably meant something along the lines of, "It certainly is perplexing."

Violet continued. "So that's it, is it?" Kyle was silent. "Is it? You know how low you have sunk?" She softened her tone. "You used to not care about what people said about you."

"Well, it's different now! Now I do care! Why do you care? You want people to think nice things about you, too!"

Violet almost screamed, but let out a heavy wail. "Aaaaauuuuuuuggh! You are impossible!" She threw her hands up into the air, and turning on her heel, stomped out of the room. A grim expression passed over her face as she turned a corner to walk out the front door. When she was standing in front of the oaken door, Violet turned around, halfway wanting to go back to were Kyle was and say she was sorry. Violet's face clouded over with a grim"No" expression, and she pushed the door open.

Violet squinted as the bright sunlight burned into her dark eyes. She felt as if the world was punishing her for fighting with Kyle. Her insides said, "Go back, go back," and she agreed. But when she turned around, Violet's once hurting eyes met a door not her own. Violet turned back around in utter confusion. Although she was not where she was less than a minute ago, Violet's eyes saw familiar objects. The park, the trolleys, the road to the bank. _But they aren't real!_ she frightenedly thought. _This can't be true! I mean, how many people get transported into their favorite book series every day? This can not be happening._ Violet scrunched her eyelids tightly together and pinched herself, hard. "Ow!" She opened her yes, but she still stood where she thought was not real.

She looked down in despair, a word which here means, "with a longing to go back into her own house and settle her despute with Kyle." When Violet did, she saw that her feet were covered with the most hideous shoes ever. Violet glanced at her pants. They were not pants any more, but a knee-length high dark purple dress, almost sailor style. Violet felt tears creep to her eyelids. Then she had an idea. That idea filled her with panic.

Violet turned on her heel, and threw open the door. She heard a clunk. Violet peered around the door, to come face-to-face with her brother.

"Ow! Violet" the boy said from where he was laying on the ground.

Violet gasped. "Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry Kyle! And, I'm sorry for the fight we had. Can you forgive me?" She asked hopingly, but she knew deep down inside, she only meant it a little.Kyle looked at Violet, confused. A baby, Summer, crawled next to Kyle's foot. She and Kyle, too, were dressed in embarrassing clothes.

"What are you talking about?" Kyle asked. "What fight? And my name isn't Kyle." He paused. "Are you sick?" Kyle placed a hand on his sister's forehead.

"Uh. . ." Violet started. She decided to play along with it. "Sorry. I think the sun boggled my brain. The sun!" She snatched up a piece of paper lying on the table next to Kyle - who is now Klaus. Violet ran back outside to the exact spot where she was standing a moment before and held up the paper in the air. After about ten seconds, the paper caught on fire.

Violet saw Klaus take a step back. She grabbed his arm, scooped Sunny (who was the Summer) into her arms, and dashed up the stairs. She pounded on her parents's study door. "Open up!" Violet yelled. No answer. ''Open up!" She called again, and again there was no answer. Her arm fell down as she fell to the floor. "Open up," Violet whispered weakly. "Open up."

Klaus knelt down to the floor where his sister lied. "Come on, Violet. They're busy. We need to get to the beach before everyone comes."

Violet's mouth opened as Sunny crawled to the floor beside her. "Klaus, we can't go!" Violet held her brother's hands.

"No, we have to," Klaus replied. "Remember? Today we have a day free of Mom and Dad! They said we could go to the beach today. Right, Sunny?"

The little girl nodded.

Klaus pulled Violet to her feet. He led her down the stair case, and out the door. The whole way Violet was whispering, "They're going to die. They're going to die. They're going to die. And it's all my fault."


End file.
